


Naked

by GreenMeridian



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gratuitous nudity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 17:36:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenMeridian/pseuds/GreenMeridian
Summary: Boris has a very relaxed relationship with his body





	Naked

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nudes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20004991) by [Hotaru_Tomoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_Tomoe/pseuds/Hotaru_Tomoe). 

> This was inspired by the same tumblr post as “Nudes”. Basically, Stellan Skarsgard apparently walks around bollock naked at home and has a “very relaxed relationship” with his genitals. So obviously, that has to be Valoris’d.
> 
> I hope I did the concept justice as well as the wonderful Hotaru_Tomoe

He prefers to work in Boris’ room. His own is a mess of discarded paperwork; without his secretary to keep him in order his worst habits have flourished here. Boris by comparison is naturally fastidious and won’t let him make too much of a mess, even going so far as to clean up after him with only minimal grumbling. They could always work in his room, but he feels more comfortable in Boris’ space than his own anyway. Boris doesn’t seem to mind him being there either. After particularly long days, or when they’ve overdone it on the vodka a bit, he’s woken up on Boris’ sofa, his shoes and glasses removed and a blanket over him, and Boris has never chastised him for it.

It doesn’t take long of living together like this before they become relaxed around each other. Suits and ties give way to undershirts and fatigues, they sit next to each other on the sofa instead of having one of them perching awkwardly on the bed, they even shared the same vodka glass for an evening when Valery clumsily broke the second. So it doesn’t come as much of a surprise to Valery when Boris announces he’s having a shower. It has been a long day, dusty and sweaty and awful and though they had both already showered (it was a necessity, with the radiation), he could understand why Boris felt the need for a second.

He tries to focus on the map on the desk, on the reports he needs to go through, but the sound of the shower is a constant reminder that through the door behind him, Boris is naked, wet and soapy. It is more than a little distracting. But Boris takes short showers, it seems, as after a few minutes, the water cuts out and he hears the door open.

“That was quick,” he comments, for the sake of saying something.

“I forgot I was out of soap,” Boris replies. Valery could have just muttered something non-committal and carried on trying to decipher Pikalov’s handwriting but for some reason, he turns around to face Boris. Who is inexplicably naked and dripping wet, digging in his bag for soap. Valery’s tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth but he nonetheless manages to force out a choked squeak. Boris looks up from his bag, seemingly unperturbed by his own nudity.

“Valery?” he asks, looking concerned. Are you ok? Is that cough back again? I told you to see the doctor about that.”

“A cough?” Valery asks slowly. “Boris... you’re... why are you...?”

He can’t say the word out loud, for that would make this situation far too real. Boris looks down at himself, at his bare skin and exposed genitalia and chuckles, the motion making his flaccid cock jiggle slightly.

“Oh, right. I don’t really think much of it, to be honest. I’ve got a very relaxed relationship with my body. Besides, you don’t get privacy in the military.”

“You’re not in the military now!” Valery says indignantly, his voice choked with discomfort.

“We’re both men Valery, it’s nothing you don’t see yourself every day.”

He’s standing straight now, his quest for soap forgotten. Valery does his best to focus on the wall behind him, very aware of how quickly his body is beginning to react to the situation. His embarrassment is apparently not enough to make his cock forget about how damn good Boris looks for his age. Valery has wasted several evenings (and one particularly intense morning) imagining what Boris looks like naked, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality. Yes, his body clearly shows signs of age but he’s pleasantly muscular and he’s certainly well deserving of the confidence he clearly feels about himself. He is simply stunning, a perfect specimen of raw masculinity, somehow even more commanding of respect and deference without his suit.

Boris steps closer to him and Valery feels like he’s going to choke. A few more steps forward and Boris’ cock would be touching his face, he realises. His line of sight to the wall is now blocked by Boris’ square shoulder and his eyes helplessly follow a bead of water as it leaves his clavicle and gets lost in his silver chest hair.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Boris says with a teasing smile, and Valery feels his cheeks burning. He cannot look at Boris’ face, but that just means his eyes are more tempted to map the various scars and wrinkles across Boris’ skin.

“It’s not appropriate!” he says, and Boris chuckles again.

“It’s just a human body Valery. You’re a scientist, you shouldn’t find it too shocking. Besides, there’s only one of me, how many of those miners were walking around like this?”

Valery swallows. Let me leave, he thinks. Let me go back to my room and pretend this never happened. Let me go and deal with my reaction to this in private before you notice and throw me out yourself. Boris shifts his weight slightly and his new stance displays his generously proportioned genitals proudly between his thick thighs, his pubic hair wet from the brief shower. Valery knows he’s obviously hard now, he can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his trousers. He has always gotten absurdly wet embarrassingly fast and he knows that if he hasn’t already soaked through to his fatigues, it won’t be long until he does. He wills Boris not to notice but the tension in his body and on his face must have given him away, because Boris’ eyes slowly come to rest on his lap. Boris inhales sharply and Valery can feel his cheeks heating up.

“Valera,” Boris says softly. “This is why you’re so uncomfortable?”

Valery nods, closing his eyes in shame, waiting for the demand that he leave, insults, even a punch... but nothing comes.

“It’s nothing to worry about, It’s a natural reaction. As I said, we’re both men.”

And the fact of us both being men is the problem, Valery thinks hysterically. Boris places his hand on Valery’s shoulder, and Valery fights back a flinch.

“I know what it’s like to get hard, Valera. I’m not so old that I don’t have desires.”

Valery shudders. Boris’ voice sounds lower, huskier now. He risks opening his eyes and comes face to face with Boris’ no longer entirely flaccid member. Boris has filled out somewhat, looking thicker and firmer than before. The man has moved forward without him noticing and now it would take only a small lean towards it on his part to be able to press his lips to the tip of it. So he does, propelled forward by the strange new energy in the room and no longer inhibited by his brain, which seems to have melted out of his ears.

Boris makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and it emboldens Valery, who wraps his hand around the base of it and takes the rest into his mouth. Boris rapidly hardens against his tongue. He’s thick, so thick, Valery’s jaw is stretched to it’s limit and it’s bliss. Boris’ hand gently cups the back of his head and begins guiding him in a slow, sensual rhythm which he augments with flicks of his tongue and well-timed sucks. Boris is leaking on his tongue, a taste of what is to follow, and he hums around the prize in his mouth in satisfaction. He places his spare hand on Boris’ thigh, enjoying the trembles and clenches of the muscle beneath his fingers. This is madness, utter madness, but what a wonderful sort of insanity it is. Boris is already close, he can tell by the little grunts he’s making and the barely restrained movement of his hips. He grasps Boris’ buttocks and pushes, and Boris moans as he allows himself to thrust properly into Valery’s mouth. Even with a hand on the base of it, Boris’ cock still nudges the back of his throat and Valery’s eyes water, saliva dripping down his chin.

“Valera...” Boris says, voice strained, and Valery knows it’s a warning. It’s one he chooses not to heed, letting Boris continue to fuck his mouth, slow and deep. He breathes through his nose as best as he can but he’s getting lightheaded now, his throat hurts, his jaw feels like it’s about to dislocate, Boris fingers are too tight in his hair. He’s in heaven. He cups Boris’ balls, feels the weight of them in his hand and squeezes them gently and Boris curses. He scrapes his fingernails over the taut skin, and that’s all it takes. Boris swells in his mouth, chokes out his name and holds his head in place as he pumps his release down Valery’s waiting throat. He swallows and swallows with each pulse of Boris’ cock in his mouth but there’s so much, he feels it escaping his mouth as he tries not to choke. When Boris finally releases his head, he gasps for breath, mindless of the mess on his face, dribbling down his neck onto his undershirt.

Boris stumbles back and collapses on the bed, half hard cock sticky against his thigh. Valery stares at him, amazed at what has just happened and barely able to think of anything but his own aching erection. He stands, not bothering to clean himself up, shoves his trousers down his thighs and grabs himself, gasping at how good the first squeeze of his hand feels. He strokes himself hard and fast, all that matters now is relief from the pressure in his aching balls. He’s dripping wet, his slick smoothing the motion of his hand and the glide of his foreskin over his swollen head. He feels it building in his gut, shockwaves going down his legs and making him unsteady. Boris watches him intently, eyes full of fire and lust despite the exhaustion around the edges of them, and he stares back, no longer ashamed to show how stimulating he finds the sight of Boris’ naked body.

Boris mutters a soft “oh fuck” and it’s all he needs to fall violently over the edge, cupping the palm of his hand over the tip of his cock to catch his desperate release. He groans, low and guttural, a wild, animal sound, and forces his eyes to stay locked with Boris’. When his cock stops pulsing, he wipes his hand on his trousers and lets them fall to the floor, pulls his vest over his head, and wipes his face with it. He’s as naked as Boris now and for once, he feels pleasantly unashamed of his soft, pale body. Boris’ eyes still show hunger and his cock has yet to fully deflate. Valery collapses on the bed next to him. He’s exhausted, he hasn’t come that hard in years and it’s left him weak. Boris pulls him in for a kiss and Valery knows his mouth must taste of Boris’ come, though Boris doesn’t seem to mind. The soft moan he makes when their tongues meet would indicate he enjoys it, if anything.

The kiss lazily for a while, slowly exploring each other’s bodies. If they were younger, perhaps they would be able to go another round and while Valery can feel himself hardening again, there’s no frustration or real need behind it. A natural reaction, as Boris had said. Besides, even if his cock were able, the rest of his body doesn’t feel like it’s going to recover any time soon. He is content just to kiss and stroke and hold, and Boris appears willing to do the same. After a while, they stop kissing and just lay there, limbs tangled together and bodies pressed close. He is truly relaxed, a rare feeling even before Chernobyl, and he lets it fill him, feeling his limbs grow as heavy as his eyelids. He will sleep well tonight, he thinks. Yes, he will sleep very well indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> thegreenmeridian.tumblr.com


End file.
